I woke at 4am this morning, and knew I was supposed to get up. The time just before dawn is always when magic happens... For things beyond our usual awareness are closer in these hours of stillness. If you miss it, and wait until the noise and racket of the day has begun, it is too late. By then the subtlety has gone, and all you get is yanged up human harshness. But my body felt so tired at 4am, and sluggish too. I could barely move. It still carries some of the energy of an illness I succumbed to last week. My vibe had dropped when I got overwhelmed, and low and behold, I got ill. It is a pattern I can recognise.When I did get up, I went downstairs to get a drink, and suddenly was overcome with tears. I found myself sobbing with longing. I didn't want to be here, I wanted to be somewhere else.I saw the place, I saw the dew on the grass and smelt the freshness coming towards me. I heard the cry of buzzards turning over head, and felt the chi energy swirling, turning and transforming me. I felt what it was like to be somewhere else, and I missed it with a longing so strong I thought my heart would break. And I have no real cause to feel such loss! I am so lucky to live where I do. I have fields and trees aplenty. I can get in the car and in a few minutes be deep in the woodland, listening to the birds and the sounds of the river. But it's not where I dream to be. It's not where my soul tugs and tugs at me to go. It's not where I should be.

Dog on the right is mine (or am I his?), dog on the left (with very small legs) isn't mine, he belongs to my neighbours who are elderly and poorly. Dog on the left (lets call him Willow) is very bright, very cute and would be in charge if he had a zillionth of a chance. Willow is being fostered by me. I have decided to call it fostering so that it keeps in my mind, in the end, he will go home - even if it's only next door - and so, in theory, I shouldn't form too much of an attachment. Willow is having a major detox. He is at the canine equivalent of a Health/Fat Farm. His owners, who love him to pieces, tend to love him a bit too much with treats and goodies, and when he came to me he was a little hyperactive and quite a bit podgy. Now he has buns of steel and falls asleep at the end of his day like a little angel. (Should anyone care, my buns are coming along quite nicely too). My walks have increased 100%, and now dog on the right is knackered and legless most of the time. They are of an age, so really, dog on the right (lets call him Buster - because that is his name) shouldn't be knackered and legless, he should be wired and taught like Willow. But no. He is a different breed you see. Buster is bred for lounging about and cooking his brains against the radiator. He is not built for anything remotely athletic. Yes, there is springer in his parentage, but that has only influenced his questionable thinking - physically he doesn't have the equipment for anything apart from his dinner. Willow is a little star - I love his interest and his cleverness. He thinks. Buster is still wondering what he had for breakfast. (Here's a clue B - same as tea, same as supper). Do they get under my feet and drive me mad? They sure do. Do I love them? Of course I do :-)

I get a lot from my dog. He's a pain in the backside of course, but that comes with the territory. He's a spaniel cross you see, and that made him a lunatic before he was even born. His mum is a sturdy springer/labrador, whose claim to fame was nipping the lady from the national park on the bum. His dad is a tiny, weeny little cocker spaniel, only just tall enough to see over his food bowl. Their unlikely union must have been quite a sight to behold. I can only hope there were no children present. My dog, naturally, took the best bits from both his parents - the body mass index from the sturdy labrador that is his mother, and his short, stumpy, little bendy legs from his teeny weeny father. His brains...? well, they must have left those out. He whiffs a bit if I'm totally honest, and he does have a few habits I would prefer him to give up. One of them is scrabbling the mat just inside the front door. I am constantly sticking the wretched thing back down with double sided tape, (so as not to cause a fatality) - but he just digs it up again every time we get back from our walk. He hangs around when anyone has food - more loitering really, a kind of canine curb crawler - and he stares, and stares, and stares with unblinking amber eyes if it goes past his dinner time. He used to eat socks, but fortunately that unhealthy habit has moved into the past, and he used to hump everything and everyone, but since a little trip to the Vee Eee Tee, that is no longer an issue either. Truthfully my dog is wonderful. He is ALWAYS over the moon to see me. No matter how long I've been out, he doesn't get a mood on and give me the silent treatment. He doesn't sulk or argue (I'm always right in his world). He doesn't complain or moan. He simply accepts me just the way I am. My dog loves me whether I am fat or thin, happy or sad, tired or energised, young or old, wealthy or poor. He loves me unconditionally. My dog brings to me and this world the gift of purest Love - Lucky, lucky me. ;-)